


Devil You Know

by detoxjusttoretox



Series: Devil You Know / Speak of the Devil [1]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Drama, Kidnapping, Multi, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:52:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2337563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detoxjusttoretox/pseuds/detoxjusttoretox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An improbable, incredulous situation: your ex, your first true love, vs. Tom Hiddleston, your limerence. You decide... but what are the consequences?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Devil You Know

**Author's Note:**

> Gah, I'm horrible with summaries. Part one of two. I know it's a cheesy and outrageous story/scenario, but I was going through a time where I still had feelings for my ex, but was head-over-heels for Tom. So, if anyone out there can relate... this one's for you.

“You have to pick one.”  
“And if I don't?” You ask hesitantly.  
“The other dies.”

* * *

 

Your ears always seem to wake up first. Then your brain reboots, your limbs follow, and eventually your eyes open. Someone seemed to have been whispering softly only seconds ago. You were currently still stirring blindly on an unpleasant, cold surface—the floor. Your eyes slowly lift, and with the first sight of the day comes the habitual unawareness of where you are, promptly followed by a flood of memories of how you got there. Yet you felt panic arise as the memories failed to appear.

You blink as your heart is racing, sitting up in a frenzy. You rub your eyes brusquely, and are dumbfounded at the sight across from where you sit.  
Now you know the cold is due to the hard, white tiles of the floor. You're in a four white-walled room lacking furniture with one door and one dark window. The fluorescent lighting makes your eyebrows cringe in pain, and you finally fix your eyes on the only other beings in the room. Sitting with their backs to the wall with the window, there they are, taking up a corner each: the first boy you ever fell in love with... and Tom Hiddleston.

Confusion takes over your face as they stare back at you in suspense. Before letting the questions arise, you look around at the room again. The window is like the ones you'd seen in crime television shows, a two-way glass. Inhaling deeply, you run your hands through your hair, then look down at your attire—same as your last memory, if you can call it that.

Prior to waking up, you had a dream about a memory, or at least that's the conclusion you were making now. You were tied down to one of those dentist chairs, the rope burning your skin from all the struggling to escape. There was a bright light in your face, obviously the one they would use to check your teeth, and a voice. Someone telling you to choose between two things.

You shut your eyes tightly and groan, shaking your head into your palms. The two men shuffle in response, waiting for something to happen. You've now realized what you have to choose between, but you can't choose which is harder to believe—how they kidnapped Tom, and how they found your former lover.

With a sigh, you look up at the ceiling, then at the door on the wall adjacent to the one you're leaning against. “I assume that door only opens from the other side?” you murmur, realizing how much you need water.

“Yes.” your ex replies, and it hangs in the air for a while.

Your ex is sitting with one leg outstretched, while the other is bent, his elbow resting on it as his hand touches his chin. On the opposite end, there is Tom, sitting with both legs extended, but crossed one over the other, his arms crossed as well, and his hand is also touching his chin pensively.

Suddenly, he makes a sound of remembrance, reaching to his left for a water bottle, then crosses the room and hands it to you. “You must be parched...” he comments, smiling politely.

You look at the water, then up at him as he towers over you, taking the bottle. “Yes... Thank you.” you smile back, then open the bottle, the cool liquid refreshing your mouth as you drink from it.

Tom stands there, swaying and waiting, the entire room full of awkward silence. “So,” you hand Tom the bottle, “I suppose you guys... were introduced or something?”

Tom and your ex share a look. “Something like that.” Your ex says, switching legs.

You look back and forth between the two males. “Well?”

With a sigh, your ex stands up and leans one shoulder on the wall. “Well, I was... kidnapped, for a lack of a better word, on my way back from work. Next thing I know, I'm tied down to an uncomfortable leathery chair, with some guy I couldn't see telling me about how you never got over me, and how much you love Tom Hiddleston, a bunch of other crazy shit. Then they put me in a room with him,” he nods towards Tom, “this room, to be exact. I think they were expecting us to fight or something.” He turned to look through the window. “Shows what they know, right? Why would I fight this guy? I'm not a violent person. Not always. THEY SHOULD HAVE DONE MORE THOROUGH RESEARCH!” he banged the glass as he finished his explanation.

By now, you were blushing from the information that had been revealed. Not only was it embarrassing for your ex to know you were hung up on him, but also for your celebrity crush—which, if you were honest with yourself, felt like more than that—to find out so bluntly about your feelings towards him.

“They did the same for me, essentially,” Tom disclosed, “but I wasn't tied up. I was just put in a car, where they told me what was happening. Not very much information. And so, here we are.”

"How can you both be so calm?" you ask, annoyance laced in your question.

Your ex scoffs. "We raised hell, but it was obviously pointless. I mean, they even left water for us in here, they must have some high tolerance for noise."

“Okay,” you slowly rose up, using the wall as support before Tom offered you his arms and causing your old flame to glare slightly, “well, I don't remember much. I don't know what we're supposed to do know.”

“You've always been a great liar!” A voice boomed over the PA system you had failed to notice before. A familiar voice, one that you could hear echo in your thoughts, but couldn't place a face to. “I've already told you what you had to do.”

Your face drains of color when you recognize whose voice is speaking. The boy who wouldn't take no for an answer. Who hit on you so many times, and had been rejected just as many times.“What the hell is going on?!” you demand.

He cackles. “I think I'm doing you a favor. Or at least myself. I'm making you choose, so you can finally move on and stop bitching about your misery.”

“You know the person speaking?” Tom asked, sounding confused but his eyes showed worry.

“Wouldn't surprise me if she did,” your ex muttered, then chuckled, “moves on quick, that one.”

You clench your fists, glaring at him. “You really wanna go there?” He simply smirks back at you.

“If you would all just be quiet, I can clear things up for everyone...” the voice from the PA announced.

You and your ex tear your hateful looks away from the one another, while Tom simply observes the two of you with a raised eyebrow.

“For two years, I've been trying to break free of the sidelines you had me in,” the voice began, “I never did. I could never escape because you were either too nostalgic over your first cliché, or obsessively wishing for the impossible with the British one.”

You feel the passing glances from both men burning through you, focusing your attention on the PA speaker to avoid what you might find in their stare.

“Luckily for all of us, this ends soon enough. The task is simple, really. To get out of here, you have to choose one lucky man; only two out of three will make it out alive. I'll spare you the gory details. Fellas, feel free to strangle the girl to death. If you combine the power you both have over her, you two might make it out alive!”

You slam your fists on the wall, then run to the window and slap your hands onto the surface of it. “This is fucking ridiculous!” you scream, “all of this because I denied you? What is wrong with you? And how the fuck did you even kidnap Tom Hiddleston?!”

There was a roar of laughter over the speakers. “That's for me to know and go to jail for. Now, it's time to pick a winner! The man you once loved, or the man you want to love.”

Tears threatened to spill over onto your cheeks as the sound of the PA system being clicked off echoed in the room. At this point, you would rather die now than turn and face them both.

“Do you have a thing for boys with mental disorders?” your ex's voice dripped with sarcasm and anger, “I hope Tom's not diagnosed with anything.”

“I don't think you should speak to her like that,” Tom said sternly, “it's not her fault. That man is obviously mental.” There was a muffled “HA!” from the other side of the window in reply.

Your breath became rapid and shallow, your face crinkling in pain, when you felt an arm around your shoulder. You can't help but sob into the probably expensive suit of the tall Brit, who hugs you tightly with one hand on the back of your head. “It's okay, love. Don't cry,” he strokes your hair gently, rocking you from side to side, “I don't mean to sound narcissistic or anything, but I'm sure there are people looking for me.” He pulls you away to place his hands on your shoulders and stare into your eyes. “We can get out of this alive. Don't lose hope.”

Your ex exhales loudly, “Of course you'd find comfort in him. Looks like we have a winner.”

“God!” you whip around to face him, fury rushing through your blood. “Could you, for once, take this situation seriously?! I already know you resent me, you don't have to be an asshole to reassure me.”

You all stand there in silence for a good while, staring at nothing, letting everything sink in.

Finally, Tom speaks again, in a quiet tone. “Worse comes to worse, you should have a choice ready.”

You stare at him incredulously, then laugh bitterly, the tears returning. “How can I even begin to make a choice?”

“Well, I know there's enough hate that accumulated once I left her to save your ass, Hiddleston. I'm not her fondest memory.” Your ex says remorsefully, and the two of you exchange a look of apology and nostalgia, but not without Tom noticing.

“I don't know about all that. But you know what they say,” Tom leans back against the glass window, looking down with his hands in his pockets, “better the devil you know than the one you don't.”


	2. Speak of the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make your decision, and the rest is full of surprises.

Silence had fallen over the brightly-lit room, and while you felt saddened from Tom's conclusion, you were also on edge. You knew that your kidnapper was not a patient man, he'd waited for you too long to have much of it left.

The three of you had been pacing and waiting for god knows how long, and it had made you jittery. Finally, you pushed yourself up off the floor where you had been sitting, walking over to the glass window slowly. From the corner of your eye, you saw your ex and Tom exchange a questioning look.

You had made a decision, one that would save you all. You hoped it would work, at least long enough to escape.

You took a deep breath, then banged on the glass lightly. “I-I... made my decision.”

“What are you doing?” your ex asks in a whisper.

You glance at him, emitting a silencing vibe. “Trust me,” you mouth.

The PA clicks on. “About time! Thought I'd have to go in there and pressure you.”

You exhale, annoyed. “Yeah, well, I figured you wouldn't wait forever.”

“Okay! Who's it gonna be then?” the voice asked eagerly.

“You.”

The prior silence was nothing compared to the new wave of quiet. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, and the static from the PA had vanished for the moment.  
After a while, there was a shuffling over the speakers, then a chuckle. The PA shut off.

You gulped and your breathing became shallow. There was the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor, then heavy footsteps approaching the door. Tom moved to stand in front of you, one hand stretched out to keep you behind him, while your ex placed his hand on your shoulder, and you felt his muscles tense.

The door swung open, revealing your disheveled kidnapper, pointing a gun every which way in the room. “How fucking stupid do you think I am?!” he demanded. “Pick one, right _fucking_ now, or I'll shoot the three of you!”

Well, your plan backfired completely. Tom held one hand up, staring intently at the kidnapper, and pushing you lightly behind him.

Your ex stepped forward slowly. “Hey, you need to calm the fuck down, dude,” he warned, “if you know her as well as you claim to, you know she doesn't work well under pressure.”

The kidnapper smirked at him, but pointed the gun directly at you. “True. But I also know she leaves everything to the last minute, and now she's going to face the consequences.”

You were about to have your go at reasoning with him when your ex pounces on the kidnapper, taking the gun with both hands. Without realizing, you scream bloody murder, and Tom wraps an arm around you protectively.

The kidnapper headbutts your ex, making him stumble backwards. You run and kneel next to him to make sure he's fine, looking back up at Tom in desperation, only to find him in the middle of throwing a punch. More punches land as your ex regains control of the spinning room, just as the kidnapper has his gun pointed closely at Tom.

Your ex attacks him once again, moving the gun in another direction as a shot was fired, nearly hitting him.

“Oh my fucking god!” You move to try to help your ex, but Tom is holding you tightly. “Tom, we have to do something!”

Tom looks at you with a collected and serious expression, contrary to your panicky face. “Listen to me, you need to run. Get out and get help.” His voice was quick and low, urging you towards the door as the two men continue to fight one another's force.

“No!” your ex yells, “Just get the hell out of here! Both of you!”

“I'm not leaving you here!” you yell, tears brimming from your eyes in a mixture of fear and anger.

“I can handle this,” he assured you in a strained voice, “you worry too much.”

Despite your suffering, you couldn't help but laugh lightly, tears stinging on your cheeks. You felt Tom tug on your hand as you both ran out, weaving through the halls of an obviously abandoned building—it was always an abandoned building. You were having trouble breathing, since you were still crying, and your hair clung to your wet cheeks. But you had to keep running, you had to find help for the one you left behind, and it's not like Tom was slowing down anyway.

Tom let go of your hand to check the end of a hallway, leaving you a moment to stop and catch your breath. “I think there's an exit this way.”

You hunch over, wiping the stale tears from your face and new ones threatening to spill over as Tom turns to take in your state. He takes your face in his hands, tucking stray hairs behind the closest ear. “I know you're tired, love, but we have to keep going.”

His calming blue eyes pierced through yours, and you took a deep breath, nodding. “I know.” Your voice breaks.

He gives you a half smile, one that barely lifts the corner of his lips, then pulls you in to embrace you. “I know you can do it,” he rubs your back, “we're all going to make it.”

You really want to stay in that moment, but you both pull away at the same time, and head towards the promising outlet.

As Tom pushes the door open, you can see the daylight from behind him, and you both make noises of relief. Both of you continue to run, the rays of sun seemingly recharging your energy, looking for an authority, or anybody, really.

Tom spots a policeman, and you both run over to him. You're ready to begin babbling nonsense at the officer, but Tom beats you to it, explaining everything smoothly. All you can do is stand there in awe, and relief washes over you as action is taken.

One policeman is offering the two of you a ride to the station when a shiny, black Range Rover pulls up behind.

“Tom!” You recognize the man running out of the car as Luke, Tom's publicist, and you feel the gravity of the situation more and more. You almost feel more star-struck from seeing Luke than Tom, figuring Tom had been a hallucination the entire time anyway.

“Luke!” They embrace and both sigh in alleviation, patting each other on the back and talking.

“Well, let's get you out of here, make sure you're okay!” Luke exclaims, moving Tom towards the car.

Tom turns to glance at you, trying to explain to Luke that he has to talk to you, but is ignored as he is pushed into the car anyways. You don't know how to react, so you simply smile politely as he looks out the window at you apologetically.

The black car drives off, and the police man drives you home.

* * *

 

“I can't even believe that happened to you!” your best friend flips out as you finish telling her the events from a month ago. For the 100th time.

She had been your only company for four weeks, the only one who hadn't given up on insisting that you get out. So there you were, waiting for the bus after catching a movie as the LA sky turned into a pink and orange tie dye.

“Yeah, me neither.” your voice is monotonous, but your feelings silently torment you. You hadn't heard any news from anybody, not even an authority.

Your friend looks over at you worriedly, then puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I'm sure you'll hear about them soon.”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, “in no time, I'm sure I'll hear from Tom Hiddleston.”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

While your best friend is busy overreacting, you try to slow your heart rate, eyes wide and muscles tense. You slowly turn around to find him there, casually dressed in a gray t-shirt and jeans. The shirt molded nicely lines of his muscular figure, and you didn't even dare think about how the jeans were praising his lower body. He smiled down at your bewildered expression, laughing his light sound.

You blinked to clear your head, then cleared your throat silently. “Wha—h-how did you find me?” That was probably a vain question. “Not that I'm assuming you were specifically looking for me, but...”

He chuckled a little harder at your cover up. “Well, that would be safe assumption, because that's exactly what I did.”

You realize you'd been holding your breath, so you exhale quickly. “Oh... well, I don't know if anyone's told you, but that's called stalking.”

He laughs again. “I'm aware. I couldn't help myself,” he winks, “Actually, I have a surprise for you.”

A surprise? Was he not surprising enough? “Alright, let's see it.”

He smiles from the knowledge of his secret, then steps aside, revealing someone that had been standing behind him.

Your former lover.

Before you can stop yourself, you throw your arms around the younger man, laughing in relief and once more on the verge of crying. “Oh my god! You're alive!” you cry, holding him tightly.

He catches your embrace and stumbles back a little, laughing at your greeting. “I never thought you'd be happy to see me again.” he jokes.

You realize your reaction was spontaneous, so you back away and smile sheepishly. “Sorry,” you mumble, “guess I got a little carried away.” A grin forms on your face, and he smirks back. “I'm just really glad you're okay.”

You turn to Tom, shooting him a scolding look. “Why did it take you so long to tell me?!”

He raises his arms defensively. “I'm sorry, it's not easy to look for someone whose name you never caught. I only got to know him,” he nods over at your ex, “and I figured you might want to know he's still alive.”

You smile at him, then at your ex, and lastly at your friend. Who is hardcore fangirling over the entire scenario. “Thank you,” you whisper to Tom, “Really. Thank you so much.”

He beams down at you. “Anytime.” You all laugh.

Your ex clears his throat, turning to look at your friend. “Y'know, I'm feeling like getting some ice cream. You in?”

Your friend begins to protest, but just as quickly catches his drift. “Oh! Yeah, but you're paying.”

“I almost died protecting your friend. You owe me...”

Their conversation became lost in the noise of the passing traffic as they walked away, leaving you with Tom. You were both grateful and cursed them for leaving you alone with him.

“Well,” you start, “I guess you're pretty busy, huh? Should probably... get going on with your actor's life...”

He smirks down at you from half-closed eyes. “I suppose. But, this is not goodbye,” he took your hand, and instead of shaking it like you expected, he brought it up to his lips to brush them against it lightly, “I'm sure I'll bump into you soon again.”

You couldn't help but visibly swoon. “I-I highly doubt that, but I'll keep an eye out for you.”

He bursts into laughter at your flirty joke, then pulls you into a bear hug. “Stay safe.”

You nod into his shirt, the smell of his cologne making your brain malfunction. As you both release each other, you watch him walk away towards the same Range Rover from that fateful event from last month.

As he climbs into the passenger's seat, he stops to wave at you with a smile. You wave back, your stomach tickling from the inside as he drives away.

You had the luck of the devil.


End file.
